


Family Dysfunction

by Transformersfan123



Category: Hercules: The Animated Series
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Drama, Friendship, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transformersfan123/pseuds/Transformersfan123
Summary: Ever since discovering his parents are gods, Hercules has wanted to become a god and live on Olympus. But when Hermes starts to act strange, the demigod begins to realize that Olympus may not be the paradise he thought. As Hercules grows closer to Hermes, he discovers many unsavory details about the lives of the gods. And he starts to wonder if Olympus is really where he belongs.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	1. Never

A young boy hid within the trunk of a tree, staring out a crack at the glimmering form of the goddess as she hunted through the forest. He could feel her anger, her rage, and it was all directed at him. He didn't understand what he had done wrong, and the question burned inside of him. But he didn't dare ask it. The goddess would hear him, and he didn't want to think of what she would do once she found him.

The beautiful goddess studied a tree then reared back and slapped its trunk. A feminine cry sounded out, and the tree morphed into a slight woman. She was more beautiful than any mortal woman ever could hope to be. The goddess glared at Daphne, a dryad that the boy was very fond of. Before he could cry out, slim hands covered his mouth and the tree's hard interior morphed into the soft form of another nymph.

Tears bloomed in the child's eyes as Daphne stood gracefully. The goddess scowled at her.

"Where is that whore and the child?"

Daphne stared with large, angry eyes but said nothing as the goddess towered over her. Outrage twisted what would usually be a gorgeous face into a mask of horror that the boy would never forget. He watched as Daphne stood unafraid, chin up and face defiant. The goddess raised her glowing hand, and the boy turned to bury his face in the bosom of the nymph that held him. The crack sounded like a thousand earthquakes, like a thunderstorm that raged in unbridled fury, and the scream of pain tore at the little boy's heart.

_'She's a monster,'_ he thought as tears ran down his face. _'A thoughtless monster.'_

In a flash of light, the goddess disappeared, her scream of rage echoing throughout the evening. After a few moments, soft sobs were the only sounds to be heard. One by one, the other nymphs morphed. The naiads pulled their forms together from the rushing stream while the dryads shed their leaves and branches. Each female was lithe and beautiful, faces soft and varied with the natural beauty of Mother Earth.

The boy didn't want to see the damage that the goddess did to his friend. But the dryad that held him guided him forward.

"No, Mother," he whispered, dragging his feet. "No. I don't want to see it."

"What have I told you, child?" the dryad asked. "We must be kind. And what does Daphne need?"

"A loving touch," the boy answered automatically.

"Yes, my son. We must comfort her."

The sobs cut into his heart, but he finally looked up at his friend. She sat with her hands over her face. Yellowish-green blood stained her beautiful gown, and the boy took a deep breath and knelt down. With great tenderness, he stroked her arms, her hair, every piece of skin he could touch.

"Let us see, Daphne," the boy's mother said, her voice full of compassion.

The dryad looked up. A gash tore across her left cheek, and blood oozed from the wound. It was a miracle that the goddess had missed her eye. The nymphs gasped, and Daphne sobbed, trying to hide her face again. The boy caught her gently in his small, blue hands, ignoring the slick blood. He pressed his lips to her cheek.

The boy's mother spread her hands out and everybody looked at her.

"We must seal the wound," she announced. "Find the herbs, mix the paste. We must be swift."

The nymphs dashed off into the forest, leaving the boy with the injured dryad. He stared at her marred face, tears slipping from his silver eyes. Daphne's sobs were mere gasps now, and she was trying to stop the blood flow before she passed out. The boy reached down to his tunic and with a twitch of his wrist, he tore a strip away and tenderly folded it over and pressed it to her cut. She flinched, but the boy insisted, and she cupped his small hands with her dainty green ones.

"You didn't give me away," he whispered, blinking quickly. He used his arm to wipe his thin cheeks, and he sniffled. "She did this to you because you wouldn't give me away."

Daphne smiled, her lips trembling as pain spiked at the movement. She took his face into her delicate hands, brushing back his dark blue hair. The boy's big eyes stared at her, tears still flowing freely. She pressed her lips to his forehead, smearing a bit of yellowish blood on his glowing skin. When Daphne spoke, her voice was soft and loving.

"Little god," she whispered, wiping away the tears. "You are worth saving."

The boy blushed in delight, and he flashed his teeth, his smile brighter than snow under moonlight. She brushed her lithe fingers across his cheek, setting his nerves tingling from her magic. Touch grounded him, helped to let him know that he was loved. He was a half-nymph, and touch meant the world to him. It was comfort, love, affection, and so much more, and the same was true for Daphne, so he reciprocated, tracing her thin, fair face. Her lips quirked and she pulled him close to kiss him again. He giggled, sitting back on his heels. A cool hand pressed against his shoulder, and he started, looking up to see a slight, blue nymph.

"Move, little god," she bubbled, pushing the child aside and leaving a damp imprint on his toga sleeve.

The naiad pulled a bubble of water out of the stream, gently tugging the bloodstained cloth from Daphne's face. With great care, she washed the wound, revealing a terribly deep slash, but before the bleeding could begin again, a thin, purple past was smeared into the wound. Immediately, the bleeding stopped, and the naiad wiped her hands.

"Althaia?" the boy asked, looking up into eyes as blue as sapphires. "Will Daphne be alright?"

The naiad pressed her lips into a thin line. "I'm not sure, little god. It was a wound given by a goddess. It is a terrible wound, but we shall do our best."

"Can I help?"

"No, dear. You may watch and learn, but you do not know enough yet."

As other nymphs hurried over with flowers, herbs, and leaves, the boy moved back to leave them room to work. He listed off every plant they used, asking soft questions about things he didn't understand. The nymphs answered briskly, busy with their work. They did not snap but answered every question quickly and accurately. Their job was to help the little god learn all he could about their world before he was sent away, and now was the perfect learning opportunity for healing pastes, potions, and leaves.

The boy sat and watched them work, washing the drying blood off of his hands into the cool stream. His silver eyes took in everything. From the nymphs' distressed expressions, growing darker as Apollo drew his chariot across the sky to the day's completion, to the tension and pain on Daphne's fair face as they tended to her. The boy's mother, who was seen as a person of authority, finally stood, and everybody paused, looking up to hear what she had to say.

"I'm sorry, Daphne," she said solemnly.

"Maia?" Daphne asked, her bottom lip trembling and tears filling her shining pink eyes.

"The wound is cursed," Maia replied. "It will scar. Permanently."

Daphne's green skin turned a sickly white, and horror flashed across her face. She reached up to feel the damage. Though it was healed as far as it could be, a long scar tore across her cheek, and it would forever mar her springly beauty. Scrambling to the water, she looked upon her new face. After a long moment, she stood up, clutched at her face, and wailed. Her misery was greater than anything the boy had ever witnessed before. When Daphne turned and fled into the forest, her screams echoing through the glens and forests, the boy stood and began to give chase, wanting, _needing_ to make her feel better, but his mother snatched his wrist, halting him.

"Mother!" the boy gasped, straining against her gentle grip. "I must go to her!".

The pale pink nymph tugged him back, pulling him to her bosom. "No, child," she whispered. "She must mourn her loss by herself. Let her be for now."

Reluctantly, the boy followed his mother toward the fires where dinner was being prepared. He wasn't hungry, and his mother didn't tell him to help cook the fish and goat, so he wandered across the glade, feeling the crisp spring grass tickle the bottoms of his bare feet. With grace, he climbed into the branches of a great tree, and he looked up at the mountain that rose in the distance. That was where the goddess lived, and that was to be his home soon. His mother told him so. But at that moment, the little god didn't want to go and live there.

It wasn't just because of the goddess that he didn't want to live on Olympus. There was also his father. His father had made his mother do something, and that something caused him to be born. She hadn't explained what the god had done, but she promised he would know soon enough, that he was too young for such things. He was afraid of the answer. It caused his mother such pain to think of the god who had hurt her so. She often wept about it, and the boy would hold her and stroke her, comforting her the best he knew how. But he knew that she loved him, despite whatever had happened. It was not his fault, she told him again and again, and she loved him just the same. And he believed her.

Daphne's cries of misery echoed through the still night air. The boy sat in the boughs of the enormous tree, staring up at the stars, his gaze returning again and again to Mount Olympus. Winter still had a grip on the night, and the chill made him shiver, but he didn't go and get his cloak. He needed to know he could feel, and the sharp bite of the receding winter let him know that he was still alive, still there.

But more than that, he felt that he needed to punish himself for causing such pain. Why had the goddess hit Daphne? Fair, kind, tenderhearted Daphne, older than mortals yet still fresh as a young tree in spring. How could anybody cause such pain? And what had he done to cause the wrathful strike? And as he stared up at Orion, the little boy felt the stirring of something blacker than a starless night. It resembled the icy grip of winter coated in tar, and he gritted his teeth. Tears sprang to his eyes as a particularly mournful wail interrupted the peace of the night.

"I will never be like her. I will never do such a thing," he hissed between his teeth. He paused then pressed a hand to his heart. "I swear, I will never be like the gods. Never, ever, ever."

"Hermes," Maia called. "Come and partake. Dinner is ready, and you must eat before bed."

Hermes gritted his teeth, and he clambered down the tree, landing with nimble grace on the fresh grass. As the moon shone down on them, Morpheus's outline drew the blanket of sleep across Greece. It was late, and he yawned automatically. When Maia called for him again, he glanced at Mount Olympus then purposefully turned his back on the place where he was going to have to live all too soon. The forms of his beloved family, the nymphs, stood around a table, a warm fire silhouetting their lithe, beautiful form.

As Daphne's mournful voice reached him again, interrupting the peace of the night, Hermes, son of Zeus and Maia, future messenger of the gods, clenched his fists and swore yet another oath, one that he meant with all of his young heart.

"I will never forgive her."

  



	2. A Helpful Stranger

Hercules had never been gladder that the day was over. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, but he couldn't. With a humiliating gym experience involving losing his gym chiton (courtesy of Adonis), breaking three of the lunchroom tables, four lockers, and a wall (courtesy of his own clumsiness), and failing a history test on the gods, he was ready to turn in. Phil had berated him for his failure and run him ragged during a long training session in punishment. The kicker was that it was Phil's extensive training sessions that had left him no time to study his family tree.

So now, as the sun began to set, Hercules just wanted to study for his makeup exam. But Phil had Meleager and Nestor over, and they were drinking. So, after listening to their raucous laughter for half an hour, Hercules stormed out of the house and called for Pegasus. He just wanted peace and quiet, so he left a note to Phil that he was camping for the night, and then he flew off for a forest.

When he was far away from any cities, he guided Pegasus down into a glade that looked promising. Gathering deadwood, he lit a fire, set up a tent, then pulled out his history scrolls. The test was about the major gods, and it had humiliated the demigod to no end to not be able to ace the quiz about his parents. There had been questions that he didn't understand, something about siblings and marriage, and he was fed up with everything.

He read the scroll, pursing his lips. History was not his strong subject, but it was about his family, so he could learn it, right? But the more he read, the less he understood. Hera was his mother, Zeus's wife, but the scroll kept mentioning siblings. That was so wrong to his mortal mind, and he couldn't reconcile it. After an hour, he tossed the scroll aside and groaned. He would never pass. He didn't understand.

"Problem?" a soft, smooth voice asked.

Starting, Hercules looked up to see a young man leaning casually against a tree. He had long, black hair, which was slightly curly. His form was lean but muscular, and there was a strange grace about him. The fire cast him in an odd light. He almost seemed to be glowing, but Hercules shook his head. It wasn't a god. _Of course he isn't glowing,_ Hercules told himself. A god would have recognized him, told him who he was, but this man was clearly mortal. But what was he doing so far into the forest?

"Are you going to answer me, or are you just going to stare?" the man asked.

Hercules blushed, his cheeks warming. He hated himself for it, but he managed to keep his eyes on the man.

"Just studying for school. I don't get it."

"Why aren't you at home?"

"Phil's having a party."

The man inclined his head. He pushed himself off the tree and sauntered over. There was an energy about this man that seemed almost magnetic. He was exceedingly handsome, and his walk was fluid and contained a grace that was obvious even as he leaned down to pick up the scroll.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the ground.

"Huh?" Hercules asked.

"May I join you?" the man asked, his lips quirking in an almost boyish way.

"Oh. I guess."

The man sat down and opened the scroll. He scanned the words then chuckled.

"History. I love history."

"Lucky you," Hercules muttered. "It's making me confused."

"What's so confusing?"

"It talks about Hera and Zeus like they're siblings. But they're married."

"Yes," the man replied. "Both are true."

"How?" Hercules demanded. "A mortal wouldn't ever do that!"

"They aren't mortal. The gene pool of the gods is very narrow. But because they're divine, there aren't any birth defects. Except for Hephaestus. But that's another story. Studying for a test?" When Hercules nodded, the man rolled up the scroll and set it aside. "Anything specific?"

"The major gods."

"So the sons and daughters of Cronus," the man said, leaning back on his arms.

"Um…?" Hercules shrugged helplessly. "I saw his name… somewhere."

The man laughed, the sound full of mirth. Just hearing it made the hero-in-training grin.

"Not very studious, are you?"

"I just don't get it."

"You're in the mortal realm," the man said. "You're used to your own rules. The gods have a different set."

"That's not fair," Hercules muttered.

"Well, life isn't fair." The man sat up and crossed his legs. "I can teach you about the subject. How far back do you need to go?"

"Just to the birth of the major gods," Hercules said.

The man tossed his head and flashed teeth so white that it was dazzling. "Alright then. Well, Cronus and Rhea are their parents. Every time that Rhea had a child, Cronus would eat him or her."

Hercules's mouth dropped open. "Wait, _what?!"_

Laughter greeted his incredulity. "Yep. But because they were divine, they didn't digest. But Rhea was angry, so when her youngest child, Zeus, was born, she raised him in between the earth and sky so that Cronus wouldn't know and gave her husband a rock to eat instead. He never chewed, so he didn't figure it out. When Zeus grew up, he fought and defeated his father and banished him to Tartarus, the prison in the underworld. First, he made Cronus vomit up his other children, who became the gods and goddesses that you know."

Hercules blinked, taking in this information. The questions were beginning to make more sense, but he was greatly disturbed.

"Okay. Which gods were that? I know about Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon."

The man nodded, brushing his hair back. "Those are the most well-known. But there is also Hera, whom Zeus married, Hestia, goddess of hearth and home, and Demeter, goddess of agriculture and harvest. Those are the major gods and goddesses."

"So Zeus married his sister?" Hercules asked numbly. "My parents are _siblings?"_

The man studied him. "If they are your parents, then yes."

"B-but that's…"

"Before you say wrong," the man cut in. "Keep in mind that they are not mortals."

"But still," Hercules muttered. "We can't live like that. Why do they?"

The man pursed his lips again, sorrow entering into his grey eyes. "You don't even know the half of what's so wrong about the gods, young man."

"There's worse stuff than marrying your sister?" Hercules asked. "I doubt it."

"Then you don't know anything about the gods." The man stood up and brushed off his dark blue chiton. "I've got to go. Good luck with your test."

Hercules blinked. "Wait!" The man paused and looked back, raising his dark eyebrows. "What's your name?"

There was a long pause as the man turned back to appraise the boy. His jaw was tight, his eyes searching for something, what exactly, Hercules wasn't sure. Finally, he smiled.

"Mercury."

"I've never heard a name like that before," Hercules said.

"I'm from Rome," the man said, his lips quirking again.

"Oh, well, I'm Hercules."

"Hm," the man said. "Son of Zeus and Hera?"

"Yeah."

"Not very godlike."

Hercules flinched. "Technically I'm a demigod," he said weakly. "I was cursed or something and turned half-mortal…"

Mercury smiled sadly. "It wasn't an insult. It's more like a compliment. There are few things worse in this world than a god."

The boy paled. "You're going to get smited."

"Smote," Mercury corrected. "And no. I don't think so."

Hercules hesitated. "How can you say that?"

"Are you asking to berate me, or are you genuinely curious?" Mercury asked pointedly.

"I really want to know. I'm going to be a god someday, so… I want to know why that's a bad thing." He paused then added. "Please?"

Mercury studied him. "The gods' legacy is a long line of rape, murder, vengeance, and rage. They are all a part of the same family. Brothers and sisters copulated with each other and produced more and more gods and goddesses, demigods, and on and on. And most of the gods are caught up in their own affairs and petty lusts and desires so deeply that they don't give a single thought toward mortals and their problems."

Hercules stared at Mercury for a few moments, too stunned to speak. He opened his mouth and shut it again then looked back down at his fire, which was fading from lack of wood. The concise way that Mercury had spoken disturbed him. It told him that Mercury had thought long and hard about the gods in a negative way. But it was more than that. The young man spoke with such conviction, such firmness, that Hercules found himself wondering just who Mercury was.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally asked.

Mercury crossed his arms and nodded. "Sure."

"Are… Are you a demigod?"

The young man chuckled. "No, Hercules. I'm not a demigod. I've studied them for a long, long time. I know their history very well. I know their deeds. And that's why I think the way I do. So many people only know a select few stories about their gods. And they don't probe deeper. They learn the genealogies in school, but then they forget as soon as the tests are over. Few ever know as much as I do about the gods."

Hercules continued to stare at the fire as it got lower and lower. "Does that make me bad?" he asked.

There was silence for a moment then soft footsteps, so light that Hercules could hardly hear them. But he felt arms around him, and he jumped, turning his head fast to see Mercury kneeling beside him on the balls of his feet. His grey eyes shone in the light, and his perfect skin gleamed, reminding Hercules once again of the gods. But what he most noticed was the compassion in his expression as he pulled Hercules to his chest. It was so intimate, and Hercules didn't know how to feel about being held by a total stranger. But there was something comforting, something peaceful, in the embrace, and it was so familiar that he didn't pull away.

"No, Hercules," Mercury whispered, running his thin hands through the boy's red hair. "Don't you ever think it's your fault for what your parents did. Nothing the gods did is your fault. You are not bad because of their actions before or after your birth. They are at fault, and nothing you did or didn't do would have changed their actions. You are in charge of yourself and nobody else. Don't let their badness destroy you. Because it will if you let it."

Hercules wanted to ask how Mercury knew that, but an overwhelming sense of exhaustion passed over him. He immediately began to nod off, and he leaned closer as his eyes slipped closed. The last thing he was aware of was strong arms lifting him effortlessly and then blankets being pulled over him. Then he slipped into dreams of dancing trees and a young boy laughing.

Mercury knelt there, watching the boy sleep for a few minutes, thinking hard on how Hercules didn't deserve to be born into a family with such issues. After five minutes of silence, there was a soft breath of wind, and a delicate question reached his ears.

"It's okay, Daphne," he said, turning his head to look into the dark woods. "He's asleep and won't wake until morning."

The nymph walked out, her pink eyes studying the boy.

"So he is not a threat?" she finally asked. "He was not looking for us?"

"No," Mercury said, standing up and brushing off his knees.

His bare feet barely made a noise as he stepped gracefully closer to the dryad. She smiled at him, unafraid. Mercury glanced at the fire then knelt down again to stoke it up. Daphne watched.

"Do you know this boy?" she asked.

Mercury nodded, carefully piling wood into the flames. "Would you mind tending this all night? Or have somebody else do it?"

"Until morning, yes," she replied. "Who is he?"

"His name is Hercules. He's a good boy. I can swear he wasn't looking to lose his virginity to the nymphs."

"You must be close."

"Not really," Mercury said, crossing his arms.

"But you just embraced him. Held him. Comforted him. You would not do that for just any boy. Please explain."

Mercury studied Hercules's face, tilting his head as he chewed on the question. Daphne waited patiently. There was no use rushing the man. He would answer when he was ready. The nymph was ready to wait all night if she had to. But it was only another few minutes before he spoke.

"He's my brother."

Daphne blinked, her eyes widening. "Hermes? What do you mean?"

Hermes watched Hercules smile in his sleep, his own expression somber. "Zeus is his father."

"Maia?" the nymph gasped. "Again?"

"No," he replied quickly. "Hera."

"Then he's your half-brother."

"I don't care for that sort of thing, Daphne. You know that," Hermes chided gently.

Daphne blushed. "Sorry, little god."

Hermes smiled, standing up to take the fair nymph into his arms. With lithe grace, he began to dance with her, their bodies in perfect sync. Daphne sighed, leaning close to breathe in the earthy scent of Hermes as they spun slowly around the clearing. When they stopped, Daphne pulled back to smile. Her scar stretched along the left side of her face, but Hermes didn't find it ugly. To him, it was the height of beauty. He brushed her dark green hair aside and leaned down to peck her cheek.

It was the _crack_ of a log popping in the fire that brought their attention back to the little camp. Hercules continued to sleep peacefully, curled up in a ball. Hermes sighed, passing a hand over his face. Daphne touched him gently.

"Little god? What's wrong?"

"He doesn't deserve to be in this family," Hermes groaned, doubling over with his hands over his heart, which ached so fiercely with love and sorrow that it was overwhelming.

Daphne helped him to sit down, and she pulled him close, stroking his hair, just as Hermes had done with Hercules. She shushed Hermes as he sobbed quietly into her bosom. He began to talk softly, his voice shaking with grief.

"Herc's such a good boy, Daph. He's got a good heart. And you know why? Because he was raised with mortals. His mortal mother and father loved him and raised him right, and Zeus and Hera kept their noses out of it. It was the best decision they ever made, to stay away from their son once he was mortal. Thank the stars that they don't like to meddle in mortal affairs. And he's turned out so good, so _very_ good, and yet his one desire is to become a god, something so horrendous. It tears me apart. I know he wants to be with people like him, but he doesn't know that they are _nothing_ like him."

The nymph listened without speaking, continuing to run her hands over Hermes's pale skin, giving him the touch he needed. When he stopped, breaking down into sobs again, she kissed his forehead gently.

"Hermes, my dearest little god," she crooned. "He must live his own life. He is not you."

Hermes sniffled, sitting up and staring over at the sleeping form again. "I know. I just wish I could tell him what he needs to know."

"Maybe another day. Come, Hermes. The others want to know where we are. They are worried."

"Remember to keep the fire," Hermes said, wiping his cheeks. "I don't want my little brother to be cold. He _is_ half-mortal."

Daphne nodded. "I'll come back in half an hour."

Smiling at each other, they stood and linked arms. With one look back at Hercules, Hermes strode into the dark forest, listening to the breeze playing through the trees and wishing he could do this again. Because Hercules needed to know what he was really getting into before he didn't have the option to get away. And Hermes was determined to tell him, even if he had to break his self-imposed silence on his real relationships with all of the gods and goddesses. Because Hercules was worth it.

  



	3. Hidden Pain

Hercules stared at the paper. He'd gotten an Alpha-plus for his retest. He'd even gotten bonus points for answering the questions about Cronus eating his kids. Phil was pleased, his teachers approved, and Cassandra actually smiled a bit as Icarus slapped him on the back. Despite all of this, Hercules was thoughtful and a bit confused. His mind was on that strange man, Mercury. Some things weren't adding up.

Mercury claimed he was from Rome, but why did he know about the _Greek_ gods? He said he'd studied them, but why not study his own gods? Hercules thought about it long and hard. The best answer he could come up with was that Mercury had been born in Rome but grew up in Greece. That made sense, but there was still something bothering him. Those grey eyes seemed _so_ familiar. But he couldn't place where he'd seen them. It was driving him crazy as he walked up to the statue of Zeus.

"Father! I'm here!" Hercules called.

With an earsplitting _crack,_ lightning struck the statue and the censors lit up with fire. Zeus beamed at his son, sitting back on his throne. Hercules stared up at him, and one thought hit him with such force that he didn't speak for a minute. _He married his sister. My mother is his_ sister. Zeus sat there, his smile fading at the dazed look on his son's face. Leaning forward, he gently tapped Hercules's head with his large finger.

"Son? Is everything okay? Is it Adonis again?"

Hercules blinked, rubbing the top of his head. "What?"

"You look… unwell."

The boy shook himself out, forcing the thought away. "Sorry, Father. Just had a busy day at school." He paused then pulled out his test scroll from his bag. "I got an Alpha-plus on my history test."

Zeus grinned. "Excellent! What part of history?"

Hercules held out the scroll. Zeus whistled.

"Hermes!"

A second later, Hermes zoomed in through the door, sliding to a stop in the air. His white chiton draped over his almost too-thin body. When he saw Hercules, he grinned and touched down onto the stones, his godly glow diminishing until his blue skin and dark blue hair were the only indications that he wasn't mortal.

"Heya, Herc." He glanced up at Zeus, inclining his head. "You called, your divine immanence?" Hermes asked, swinging his caduceus up onto his shoulder and adjusting his red glasses.

"Hercules passed his history test. Bring it up here."

"You got it, sir," Hermes said, holding out his thin hands for the test. Hercules handed it over, and Hermes flew up to hover by Zeus's face.

"Ooh, not bad, Herc," Hermes said. "Alpha plus. _And_ bonus points."

"What was the subject?" Zeus demanded.

Hercules clenched his jaw, afraid of what Hermes would say, what his father would say. But Hermes only pushed down his glasses to read the paper.

"About you and your sibs, big guy. Bonus points for answering that you banished Cronus to Tartarus for all time, and about that trippy rock that your mother gave him."

"So the beginning of my rule!" Zeus exclaimed, sitting back. "Good job, son!"

"Always good to know your family history," Hermes said, rolling up the scroll. He flew down to stand beside Hercules again, his feet alighting upon the stones with hardly a noise. "Keep it up, babe. You're doing great. You'll make a hero yet!"

Hercules smiled, but he was uneasy. Neither god even noticed the sick implications of Zeus and Hera becoming husband and wife. He took the scroll from Hermes, who studied him, tilting his glasses back.

"Have a good day at school, Herc?"

"Yeah, I guess," Hercules said absentmindedly.

What he really wanted was for them to acknowledge how _wrong_ the _correct_ answers on the test were. But Zeus burst out into praise of his boy, and Hermes smiled and nodded along. Hercules suddenly wanted to leave, to go and be with his friends. Because being with his friends was infinitely better than this new angle of seeing the world. He shifted, and Hermes glanced at him. There was something penetrating in his gaze, almost as if he could read his mind.

"Hey, Herc," Hermes asked in a pause. "Don't you have plans to meet your friends today?"

Hercules stared at him, surprised, and Zeus leaned down. "Plans with your friends?"

"Yep. Zoomed by and heard him talking about it earlier. Checking in on him, as usual."

"And you came by to see me first?" Zeus asked, tender affection in his tone. "Oh, Hercules, you really are a wonderful boy. I won't keep you any longer. Go on. Be with your friends. I have a dinner date with your mother."

"Thanks, Father," Hercules stammered.

Another flash of lightning, a peal of deafening thunder, and the statue resumed its upright form, serene and stern. Hercules stared at it for a moment as the censors went out, and the temple went dark. After a moment, he looked over at Hermes, who was polishing his caduceus on his chiton.

"Hermes, I don't… What? I didn't have plans with my friends."

"I know," Hermes said matter-of-factly. "But you wanted to get out of here. I just gave you an excuse."

"How did you know that?" Hercules asked, turning and walking toward the entrance.

Hermes fell into step beside him, matching his stride. This surprised Hercules because the god always seemed to be flying. But it was much more personal to have him _walking_ with him, and the boy found that he liked it.

The god of travel pushed his glasses up as he answered. "If there one thing my job has taught me, babe, it's how to read faces."

Hercules rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't look that bad… Did I?"

The god laughed, wrapping his thin blue arm around Hercules's shoulder. An earthy scent hit his nose as he was tugged close. Usually Hermes kept his distance, so this surprised the boy. But it was nice. And the smell reminded him of something he'd recently inhaled. He couldn't figure it out though.

"If you insist on keeping your pride," Hermes chuckled. "Then call it a lucky guess. Luck's my thing."

"You mentioned you always hit the long shots," Hercules admitted.

Hermes smirked, releasing him and striding along beside him, completely comfortable on his feet. "I'm the god of luck, among other things. I'm _very_ lucky."

"Must be easy to take tests," Hercules muttered.

"The tests I've faced were not written, Herc," Hermes said. "Mine was in battle, in loyalty to the gods, particularly Zeus, and things like that. I could ace almost any written test, you know, but not because of luck. I'm the most knowledgeable god on Olympia."

"Still, luck is on your side," Hercules said. "That's got to have helped."

Hermes shrugged, looking away as they strode back toward Athens. It was a beautiful day, the sun warm, a cool breeze playing about the trees. Hercules watched the god, who was usually so peppy, so speedy and happy to be around. But there was a noticeable decrease in energy, a somberness that was uncharacteristic of the god. His shoes were still and quiet, attesting that it wasn't Hercules's imagination.

"Did I say something wrong?" Hercules asked. "I'm sorry, Hermes, whatever it was."

"No," Hermes said, rubbing his eyes beneath his red spectacles. "I've got stuff on my mind, too."

"What kind of stuff?" Hercules asked.

Hermes didn't answer, but he suddenly cringed. His shoes popped him into the air, and Hercules was startled by the sudden movement. Hermes actually looked angry.

"Simmer down!" he snapped at his shoes. "Aphrodite can wait!"

"Aphrodite?" Hercules asked as Hermes touched down to the ground again.

He glared at his feet as he answered. "Aphrodite's calling for me. She wants me to run an errand."

"Shouldn't you go?"

"You're more important than her," Hermes said. He cringed again, covering his ears. "I hear you," he muttered. "I hear you. Leave me alone."

"Hey, if you need to go, go on. You can meet me at Speedy Pita."

"Is that a command?" Hermes asked, gritting his teeth.

"Does it need to be?"

"If the son of Zeus commands me to hang out with him for the rest of the day, I can ignore the others. Zeus's orders are to keep you happy."

Hercules stared at the pain etched on Hermes's face as he cringed again, trying to get away from a call that the boy couldn't hear. "Yeah. I command you to spend time with me, Hermes. After you answer Aphrodite."

Hermes shot into the air. He paused for a brief second and flashed a grateful smile at Hercules. An instant later, he was gone. Hercules stared at the place he had just vacated. He had never seen Hermes flinch like that. He'd known that Hermes could hear calls to his name. The other gods and goddesses also could to some extent, but they chose to limit that to their temples. Hercules could call upon any god or goddess at any time, but that was because of his divine blood; as little as was left, it was still enough to catch their ears. But that look of pain, that burst of anger from the normally suave, easygoing god made Hercules wonder if Hermes really was as happy as he always seemed.

With a whistle, he called Pegasus to him, and he mounted. With a soft tongue click from Hercules, Pegasus leaped into the air, his broad wings flapping hard to get them aloft. Hercules stroked his neck, and he told the winged horse to go to Speedy Pita. He didn't notice the lush greenery spread out beneath them, the magnificent Grecian architecture, or any of the birds that soared by. His thoughts were too loud, too confused. He had so much to think about that he thought his head would burst apart. He was grateful when they landed, and Icarus hailed him from a booth.

"Herc! Good to see you!"

Cassandra swept her hair behind her ear and set down her scroll. "I thought you were going to meet your dad today."

Hercules shrugged. "Short meeting. He had a date with my mother."

"What's with the face?" she asked.

"Face?" Hercules asked. "What face?"

"Well, Herc, I'll be honest," Icarus said, slapping his palm onto the table. "You look like you're sucking on a lemon."

Hercules shrugged. "I don't know."

"Wanna talk about it?" Cassandra asked.

The demigod paused then leaned forward. "What do you think of my mom and dad? The immortal ones."

Icarus and Cassandra glanced at each other.

"What do you mean, Herc?" Icarus asked.

"You guys both passed the test, right?" They nodded, and Hercules swallowed. "Well, then you know that they're siblings."

There was a long pause, and Cassandra pursed her lips. "I see your point."

Icarus slurped up some of his smoothie. "It's a little… out there," he admitted.

"I don't understand it. Dad and Hermes weren't even bothered."

"You rang?"

All three of them jumped as Hermes slid neatly into a seat. He had a rose in his hand, which he tossed onto the table without a second glance.

"Done with Aphrodite?" Hercules asked.

"She wanted more flowers," Hermes said blandly. "I didn't bring enough roses for her daily beautifying regimen."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Sounds exhausting."

"Trust me, babe," Hermes said, laying his caduceus on the table. "If you worked on your looks as much as Aphrodite does, you'd have to flunk school. Brains are much better than beauty."

"My little Cassie-lassie has both. In excess," Icarus purred, leaning close and waggling his eyebrows.

"Drop dead," Cassandra muttered.

"Ah, my little Cassandra," Icarus sighed. "You and your witty quips."

Cassandra rolled her eyes again and picked up her scroll. Hercules flagged down a waiter and ordered.

"You want something, Hermes?"

"Half a rack of lamb and a nectar, please," Hermes told the man, flashing his dazzling smile.

"You got it, sir," the man said politely, eyeing the god warily.

Hercules thought he saw Hermes's smile dim for a moment before he waved him away. Then the god turned back to look over his glasses at Icarus, who was scarfing down his food.

"Food's not going out of style, is it?" he teased.

Icarus grinned a very messy grin and swallowed hard. "Adonis stole my lunch again."

Hermes nodded. "Bullies are a pain. But you've got to remember that high school isn't the end of your lives, and it won't be your whole life. It's a steppingstone into better things. Adonis will either learn to be kind or he will be taken down a peg. It might not be you, Icarus, or you, Herc, that takes him down. But if he doesn't step down, he will fall. And it will not be pleasant."

Hercules stared at Hermes in surprise. That was advice that he could use about Adonis. He could still remember the terrible advice that his father had given him, but this was _nothing_ like that. Hercules had never thought that high school wasn't the end. It was so all-consuming, taking classes, sitting through tests, and being bullied day in and day out, but he suddenly realized that one day it would all end. High school would end, and he really would become a hero… or something else. That day _would_ come.

The demigod smiled at Hermes as their food arrived. Hermes took up a nice rib and winked at the boy as he took a big, messy bite. Hercules laughed; he couldn't help it. He'd never seen a god disheveled in any way, and now Hermes had sauce smeared over his chin as he chewed the lamb happily. He was truly unconcerned with the way he appeared before mortals. He ignored every wide-eyed stare, every whisper and point; instead, he took another bite.

"Good lamb," Hermes said jovially.

"You never get stuff here," Hercules said, taking a much neater bite of his wrap. "I mean, I've never seen you eat. The only god I've ever seen eat is Bacchus. And he just kind of swallowed it."

Hermes swallowed the bite of meat and licked his lips. He picked up his napkin and swiped it across his face, clearing away the sauce. "I just felt like eating. We don't technically _need_ to eat, being gods and all, but food is _delicious_. One of the best things about mortals is their variety. Ambrosia and true godly nectar are good, but it's the same thing day after day. Mortals have made so many delicious things. Bread, gyros, delicate sauces for racks of lamb… Variety is the spice of life, and you mortals have it _down._ " Hermes winked and took another bite.

"I wouldn't mind trying ambrosia or real nectar," Hercules said, staring at his wrap.

"I'm sure you will," Hermes said. "You'll make a real hero one day. But remember where you come from, Herc."

Hercules paused and nodded. "That's what my Pop says. If you don't remember where you come from, you can't know where you're going."

Hermes smiled, chewing the last bit of meat from his first rib. He swallowed and set the bone aside. "That is wisdom you can take right to the clouds, my friend. Just don't you forget it."

They sat there for over an hour, and Hermes polished off his ribs and nectar then ordered some baklava for all four of them. Hercules and his friends protested from lack of funds, but Hermes pulled out a purse and tossed a large pile of coins to the server, paying for the entire meal and tipping so generously that the server stammered his thanks.

"Give some to the poor boys in the kitchen, too," Hermes said. "Kay?"

"You've got it, your imminence," the water said, bowing.

Again, Hercules saw Hermes grimace, but it passed as quick as summer lightning, and then his smile was back, gleaming brightly. Cassandra and Icarus headed home, each carrying a box of baklava for their families, and Hercules stood up and grabbed his own box. Hermes reached for it immediately, shaking his head.

"I've got it," Hercules said, holding the box out of reach. "It's not like it's a mountain, Hermes."

Hermes paused then stood, and Hercules thought he saw a tint of dark blue on his cheeks. "Sorry," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Habit."

"Habit?" The boy began to head for Pegasus.

"I do every menial thing for the other gods," Hermes explained quietly. "They're too important to be bothered."

Hercules blinked. Hermes sounded so dejected, so, dare the demigod say, _tired._ He kept up with Hercules with dragging steps, and he rubbed his eyes again. The torchlight lit up his red lenses, making them glow dangerously. But Hercules didn't see Hermes as dangerous. Especially when he let out a shaky breath, and Hercules realized just why the god was rubbing his eyes. Discomfort shot through him. What was he supposed to do about a _god_ crying? He couldn't even handle Cassandra when she was upset!

He quickly mounted Pegasus and looked away. "I gotta go," he said weakly.

"Herc," Hermes said softly. "One second."

Hercules glanced over to see Hermes standing there, looking somber. He wasn't sure he liked this new Hermes. Yes, it was more intimate, but it was beginning to scare him. Gods weren't supposed to act like this. They were above everything mortal. The answers on the test told him so, as much as it disturbed him.

"Yeah?" he asked, wanting once again to get away.

"You told me earlier that being lucky has got to have helped me."

"And?"

Hermes kept his head down as he spoke. "I don't feel lucky, Herc. If you knew anything about my life, I mean if you really knew, you wouldn't call me lucky. Luck only takes you so far."

Hercules paused. Hermes adjusted his glasses again, and he rubbed his arm, shivering with some deep pain that Hercules was terrified of understanding. Still, he couldn't just leave it at that.

"Hermes?" the boy asked, feeling a strange pressure around his heart.

Hermes turned away. "Hera's calling. I gotta go." His shoes flapped weakly, and Hermes knelt down to stroke their wings. "Day's almost over," he whispered. "Just another hour or two. Then we can rest." He stood up and his shoes began to flap, lifting him into the air. Hermes looked over at Hercules again and gave a sad smile. "See you around, Herc. Call if you need me."

Without another word, he dashed off, leaving Hercules and Pegasus staring after him. Pegasus whinnied, a questioning sound, but Hercules had no answer to give his winged horse. His heart ached for Hermes, and he wondered just how far the façade went, for Hermes's attitude today proved that there was more going on inside of the god's head than the boy knew, than _any_ of the gods knew. And all the demigod thought about on the flight back to Phil's island was the tears that he'd known about but couldn't see, and he wondered how many more were locked inside Hermes's soul.


	4. Removing the Myths

Hercules told Phil that he was going camping again. When Phil asked why, Hercules answered with a half-truth: he had to study for another history test, and he really didn't want to fail. Phil thought about it then agreed, telling the boy to be careful and not trust any strangers. Hercules took off as Apollo's chariot was on the horizon. He went to the exact same forest, the exact same spot, and set up camp.

He was excited and nervous, hoping that Mercury would show up again, though he knew the chances were slim to none. The man had probably been camping. It was a whole week later, but still, the boy had to hope. The way the man had explained the gods' genealogy had stuck with him. Now he was moving on to the sons and daughters of the major gods. He knew most of them, but he was particularly interested in Hermes. He couldn't find much about him, despite scouring the library for hours.

As he stoked the fire to cook some beef he'd brought, he glanced around the darkening forest. He felt eyes on him, but he shook off the sensation. He was a demigod, a hero-in-training, and he could handle anything. After staring at the fire for a few minutes, he picked up his scroll and began to read about Athena's birth. The first thing he noticed was that it didn't list a mother. Hercules scowled, scanning the page. She had to have a mother! But no mother was listed.

"Pegasus," Hercules said despondently. "Athena doesn't have a mother, apparently. My mother and father are siblings, and I'm going to fail this test. Why does this have to be so complicated?"

The horse whinnied, and there was a soft laugh. Hercules jerked his head up to see Mercury leaning against the same tree as before, his tanned skin practically radiating. He flipped his dark hair over his shoulder and walked over, the same lithe grace in every movement. The man didn't ask to sit down this time, plopping down and crossing his legs.

"What are you doing back here, Hercules?" Mercury asked, grinning at him.

"I, um, have more questions," Hercules muttered. "About the gods. Well, one in particular."

"Really?" Mercury asked, taking the beef from Hercules's hands and skewering it on a spit. He began to cook the meat. "Enough for two. You were hoping I'd be here," he said knowingly.

"Well…"

Mercury laughed again. "I don't mind. What do you want to know about? You were mentioning Athena."

"Yeah. Who's her mother?" Hercules asked.

"No mother, dear Hercules," Mercury replied. "Zeus got a headache and she burst out fully formed. Became the goddess of wisdom, and she is a chaste goddess, still a virgin, and she has a rivalry with Ares."

"And Ares?" Hercules asked.

"Born of Zeus and Hera," Mercury replied, turning the meat and sprinkling some kind of seasoning on it from a pouch at his side. "Not very popular, save in Sparta, where war is basically worshipped. Hot-headed, has two sons via Aphrodite, Terror and Fear."

"I've met them. They're my study buddies for war history," Hercules said. "Aphrodite?"

"Technically a great aunt of the major gods. Cronus, Zeus's father, cut off his own father's genitals—that would be Uranus—and threw it into the sea. The foam that resulted turned into the goddess Aphrodite. She is the goddess of beauty, of love, of female sexuality." Mercury paused and grinned as Hercules's face flushed, and the boy looked away. "So who is this particular god you want to know about?"

Hercules jerked his head back and brightened. "Hermes. I can't find where he came from. I've looked everywhere in the library, both the public and the school library, and I can't find his parentage, or where he came from, or anything."

Mercury checked the meat then gestured for something to place it on. "It's done, Hercules. Plates?"

Hercules quickly pulled two wooden plates out and handed them to Mercury. Mercury took a knife from his hip, placed the beef onto one plate then cut it into perfect halves. He transferred one half to the other plate and handed it over to Hercules, who took it gratefully. The boy froze.

"Aw, man, I forgot forks and knives."

Mercury smiled. "I have a knife, but no forks. No matter. It's just us. We can eat with our hands. I have some water to wash our hands and faces when we're done."

Hercules smiled back. "Sounds good to me."

He picked up the slab of beef and took a bite. It was perfectly cooked and juicy, and the _flavor._ Hercules had never tasted anything so good. He couldn't help but make a soft noise of satisfaction. Mercury grinned at him then took a bite of his own beef. The man grunted with delight.

"Delicious," he sighed after he'd swallowed. "Good choice, Hercules. Great cut of beef."

"Mmph." Hercules chewed and then gulped down the meat. "Thanks. What's in that pouch? This is the best thing _ever_."

Mercury laughed. "I'm not giving you my secret spice recipe," he said, wagging a finger. "Not yet at least. You haven't proved trustworthy enough yet. But yes," he added. "It is the _best thing ever."_

Hercules laughed, and they finished the great meal in silence. Mercury's grey eyes sparkled with joy as he saw the boy licking his fingers, and he got great pleasure out of the satisfied sigh that fell from his lips.

"That was really good, Merc."

Mercury swallowed his last bite, licked his own fingers, then pulled out a water pouch. "Nickname?"

Hercules paused. "Do you not like it?"

"Nobody's ever given me a nickname like that." Mercury smiled and washed his hands. "You can call me Merc only if I get to call you Herc."

"Deal," Hercules said. "That's my nickname. Well, one of the kinder ones."

Mercury held out the water pouch and Hercules washed his hands, then they washed their faces and had a nice drink. Hercules was full and ready for bed, but he suddenly realized that Mercury had never answered his question about Hermes. Dinner had interrupted them. He glanced over to see the man staring at the fire. How could he be so at ease out here in the forest? What was he doing in the forest? Hercules opened his mouth to ask when Mercury began to speak.

"You asked about Hermes."

Hercules snapped his mouth closed then nodded. "Yeah. I can't find anything on him."

"He's not important enough to be remembered. I doubt you will have a question about him in your test."

"But this isn't just for my test," Hercules argued. "I like Hermes, but the last time I saw him he was…" The boy paused, unwilling to accuse Hermes of crying. "He was upset. He said it wasn't me, but I want to help, and I don't know how. I know it has something to do with the other gods and goddesses and his place among them, but I can't find anything on who his parents are, what his story is, or anything! I just want to know."

Mercury chewed on his bottom lip, keeping his grey eyes on the fire. "It's not for the test. But you care enough to want to learn how to help?"

Hercules nodded. "Yes, Merc. I want to help him. I need to help him. He's the god I'm closest to. I used to think he didn't want to be close. I mean, he always kept it professional, but a few days ago…" Again he stopped, unwilling to go into detail with this man about the personal details of what he'd seen with Hermes.

Mercury waved his hand, as if sweeping aside his hesitation. "What I tell you goes no farther than your closest friends. Hermes is very secretive, and he has a reason for that."

"You've talked to him?"

The man smiled sadly. "We've met. I've talked to him. He's the only one of the gods who is comfortable being around mortals. The others demand worship and adoration at all times, but Hermes doesn't care. He's different than the others." He paused. "Promise that you won't tell anybody but your closest friends. Promise me, Herc."

Hercules nodded. "I won't tell anybody but Cassandra and Icarus."

Mercury nodded then brought his knees up to rest his chin in the hollow between them. He wrapped his strong arms around them and suddenly looked like a child. Before Hercules could ask if Mercury was okay, the man began to talk.

"Hermes is the son of a nymph, one of the Pleiades sisters, and a major god. He was conceived and born in a single day in a cave high in the mountains. The day he was born, he snuck out of the cave and went down into the world. He stole and hid Apollo's personal herd of premium cattle then went back to the cave and pretended to be helpless again. Apollo accused him of theft, which Maia, his mother, denied because of his youth. When it was discovered that he did, indeed, steal the cattle, he offered a lyre, which he'd crafted from a turtle shell, to Apollo, who accepted it along with the return of his cattle. This is how he was born, and how the gods discovered his existence."

The man paused to let Hercules take in this information before continuing. "Hermes was placed into the care of nymphs until he was old enough to take his place on Mount Olympus to be with the gods and goddesses. He was raised deep in the woods with only dryads and naiads for company. He felt great compassion for mortals as he watched them from afar and saw their struggles, and he had trouble reconciling the gods' selfish behaviors and lives of ease with the toil and work of the mortals.

"When he was finally brought to Olympus, the other gods and goddesses were so different from the compassionate nymphs and the humble love of the simple mortals that he had watched. He was treated badly by them all, ridiculed and abused for the simple fact that he had been born. Hermes was too different for them, so he took to visiting the nymphs he loved, and he found ways to spend time with mortals and learn their ways. He studied the various cultures of the world, traveled abroad, and learned many things that the other gods and goddesses considered worthless. He was mocked for his love of mortals, for his compassion toward them, and so his life became miserable."

"That's awful," Hercules murmured. "No wonder he's upset."

"There was hope. He had children, some by nymphs, some by mortals, some by goddesses. They lit up his life, reminded him that there was good in the world, but he knew that good was not from Mount Olympus. He taught his sons and daughters to be like the nymphs and mortals, not the gods, and they grew and learned much. But the gods and goddesses couldn't leave them alone, couldn't let them be happy. Much trouble came for Hermes and his children, to the point where Hermes wished to be mortal just so he could die and escape it all."

Hercules's mouth fell open. "What?"

"But Hermes found a way to get around this. He was cunning, so he rearranged things. He made himself disappear from the mortal records so that his story couldn't be told anymore. With a drop of blood and water from the pool of forgetfulness, he forced the gods to forget his lineage. He was an anomaly to them, and they forgot his parentage, his stories, his _children._ And he turned into a messenger, somebody who wasn't important to the others so that he wouldn't attract attention, and they loved this god that served them, that made their easy lives even easier.

"But they loved him for what he did, not who he was, because to them, he wasn't who he was. He was forced to fake his personality until it became a part of his being, so tightly wrapped around him that he would forget who he truly was if it wasn't for his rendezvous with the nymphs and his passion for mortals and their lives and his beloved children, who don't claim their godhood for the sake of their father, but instead live amongst the same nymphs and mortals. He is so very tired of running around for everybody else. He wants to be himself again, but he can't because the other gods would abuse and hate him as they did before, because no matter what he does he's a screwup and a mistake, even though he didn't choose to be hated, he didn't choose to be a god, he didn't choose to be born!"

Hercules was startled by the anger that Mercury was showing. Tears gleamed in his grey eyes, and his jaw was clenched as he stared into the dying flames of the fire. He seemed so impassioned, and the boy didn't understand why. The man must have been close friends with Hermes to feel such pain for the god. He slid over and wrapped an arm awkwardly around the man's shoulder.

"It's okay," Hercules said.

Mercury swallowed and fiercely rubbed his eyes. He pushed away from Hercules and stood up, looking into the dark forest. "I've got to go," he said thickly. "Good luck on your test, Herc."

And with a few strides, he disappeared into the woods, leaving Hercules alone and bewildered. He stared after the man, shocked by the display. He picked up his history scroll and half-heartedly began to read it, unaware that Mercury had not left. He stood just out of reach of the firelight, watching his little brother try and cope with what he'd just told him.

Tears fell freely down his face, pain etched so deeply upon his heart that it nearly broke it in two. He couldn't cry in front of Hercules. Not like this. Hermes couldn't bear to be so close to his little brother. It was a mistake to think that he could get close to Hercules, to help him grow. It would be straight back to professional for him. The pain was too much, too overwhelming, so he finally turned his back and walked away, resolving to be done with the whole thing.

But Hermes didn't know how lucky he was that this plan of his wouldn't work.

  



	5. Revelation

Hercules had only missed one question on his test, and ironically it was about Hermes. There was so little information available that the teacher had gone for the Roman name of the god of travel. The red mark and scrawl of the correct answer made his heart stop, and he actually stayed after class to ask about it. When Herodotus told him, with no small amount of sarcasm and his usual 'cool' language, that the name he'd written in was right, Hercules only nodded and walked out to find Cassandra and Icarus.

They were waiting for him with their history tests, ready to share the same information. As soon as school was over, they hurried to Speedy Pita to discuss things. After a small snack, they all agreed to go straight to the only place that Hermes would feel safe talking to them, a place that they never went to. In fact, Hercules had never even considered that Hermes would have one, but as they alighted in front of the small, handsome temple, they couldn't help but think of how humble Hermes truly was. As they walked up, they heard a call.

"Herc! It's me! Over here!"

Hercules turned to see Triton, soaking wet, hurrying toward him with a net full of fish in his hands.

"Triton! What are you doing here?" Hercules asked, hugging the son of Poseidon.

"I have an offering for Hermes," he said, holding up the fish.

"But… you're a god, aren't you?" Icarus asked. "Why do _you_ need to offer something to Hermes?"

"Need to?" Triton asked. "Nobody _needs_ to offer things to Hermes. It's not his policy. He helped me out of a scrape with my dad and mom, so I brought this to thank him!"

"He helped you? What did you do?" Hercules asked.

Triton's green skin darkened, and he shuffled his webbed feet. "Um, it involves a mermaid, a dolphin, and about forty tons of water… Heh, long story. Don't have time for that now. What brings you to Hermes's temple?"

Hercules hesitated. "I don't know if I should tell you."

"Oh. A secret, eh?" Triton asked. "Well, you can talk to him when I give him my offering. He doesn't get many visitors. I like showing up sometimes to surprise him."

"He doesn't get many visitors?" Cassandra asked. "And he doesn't require offerings?"

"Yes, and no," Triton replied. "There's never many people in his temple. There's not much about him, but some people still give him stuff. He never refuses anything. Even the people who joke around with him. I saw this one mean teenager burst into tears when Hermes graciously accepted a sack of manure and praised the boy for his generosity."

Hercules blinked then looked at the temple. There was no statue of Hermes on the outside, and when they went inside, it was empty save for a small plaque that mentioned Hermes's titles. Messenger of the gods, god of thieves, travel, languages, trade, sports, athletics, and border crossings. The list was impressive. And yet the temple was empty of people, something that Hercules and his friends had never seen. There was always _somebody_ beseeching in every other temple he went to.

"What do we do? Where do we beseech?" Hercules whispered, aware of how alone they were.

Triton smiled, stood tall, and called out. "Oh, Hermes! God of thieves and friend to the lowly! I have an offering for you! Please come and collect!"

There was a rush of wind and Hermes alighted with no sound beside Triton.

"Heya, Triton, babe!" he said. "Ooh, is that fangri I see?" He reached for the fish then noticed Hercules standing there, and he froze, his hands outstretched.

"Hey, Hermes," Hercules said.

"Herc!" he said, his voice too bright. "Good to see you. What brings you to my humble temple?"

"Just wanted to talk with you," Hercules said. "We met Triton outside."

"Ah." Hermes, for the first time that any of them saw, looked awkward. "About what?"

Hercules glanced at Triton then said in a low voice. "Mercury."

Genuine fear crossed Hermes's face, and he shot backward so fast that he slammed hard into the wall, which splintered from his godly strength. All four teenagers stared at him as he crashed to the floor, debris raining down on his head. He sat there, trembling from head to foot, horror etched on his face.

Triton was the least prepared for the reaction, but even Cassandra and Icarus gaped at him. Hercules hurried over and held out his hand. Hermes flinched and began to talk.

"You said you wouldn't talk," Hermes accused, his voice high and frightened. "You said Icarus and Cassandra would be the only ones you told. Triton was not a part of the deal!"

"I didn't tell Triton anything," Hercules soothed. "We just ran into him, I swear."

Triton, the net full of fish hanging limply by his side, looked afraid. "Whatever it is, I don't want to know, Hermes. I don't need to know, okay? He didn't tell me anything. Just don't tell mom and dad about the mermaid. Please, _please_ don't tell them."

Hermes didn't answer. His chest was rising and falling as he gasped for breath. He was hyperventilating, and he clutched his head, a whine coming from his throat. The words _panic attack_ had never been equated in any of their minds with gods and goddesses, but they were witnessing one, and it terrified them. It was Cassandra that kept her head. She hurried to a small table and filled a cup full of wine. She pushed past Hercules and placed her hand on Hermes's back.

"Breathe in," she commanded. To everybody's surprise, Hermes obeyed. "Out. Slowly." He obeyed again. "Good. In through your nose. Good. Out again."

After several minutes of breathing exercises, Hermes took the wine with trembling hands and downed it in one gulp. The god was much calmer now, and he stood on shaky feet, leaning against the wall. He glanced back at the damage and grimaced.

"Guess that was my fault. I'll fix it later," he muttered, standing up.

"Can't you have a mortal do it for you?" Hercules asked.

"Could? Yes. Will? No. They have enough to do without fixing my damage," Hermes said darkly. "You guys seen my caduceus?"

They shifted through the rubble until a glint of gold caught the torchlight. Icarus heaved it up and nearly fell over. Hermes caught it and helped the boy up, brushing off his clothes.

"Thanks, Icarus," he said. He traced the wings on the top. "How did you figure it out, Herc?"

"Um…" Hercules glanced at Triton, who was still standing still, watching with apprehension.

"He just saw me lose my melon, babe," Hermes stated dryly; there was no sign of his easygoing, happy nature. "I really think he deserves an explanation."

"If you don't want me to…" Triton said weakly.

"Nah. If Herc orders me to hang with him, I'll take the evening off and I guess I'll cook up your offering. We can talk."

"Then those are my orders," Hercules said quickly.

"Great. Meet me in the clearing."

And Hermes snatched the fish and flashed out of sight. Triton blinked, turned to Hercules, and shook his head.

"Cuz, what in the _world_ have you gotten me into?"

"We shouldn't make Pegasus carry all four of us," Cassandra said, ignoring the son of Poseidon.

"Icarus has his wax wings," Hercules said. "Triton can ride with me and you."

"R-ride?" Triton asked. "In… in the air?"

"Just keep your eyes closed," Cassandra said.

One hour later, they landed, and Triton tumbled onto the ground, clutching at the earth and shuddering.

"Never flying again," Triton moaned. "Hate heights. Not happening. No, no, no."

Icarus landed, shrugging out of his wings. The sky was beginning to darken, and the breeze shifted. The scent of cooking fish hit them, and they turned to see Hermes sitting beside a fire, sprinkling spices on the fish, which had been scaled and fileted.

"Just in time," Hermes said. "Almost ready. Come on over."

He was still in his god form, Hercules noticed, though he wasn't glowing, and he looked subdued. When they were seated, Hermes piled their plates with fish, handed them forks, and picked up his own plate. Hercules took a bite, watching Hermes, and he was startled by the flavor.

"This isn't what you used last time," Hercules said.

"This isn't beef," Hermes replied. "This is fish. Different spices. Do you not like it?"

Icarus took another bite. "If he doesn't, he's crazy!"

"This is really good," Triton said, chewing on the meat.

"Cassandra?" Hermes asked. "Any thoughts?"

"It's good," she said, watching him. "Are you okay?"

"No," Hermes said plainly. "I'm not."

There was silence, then Triton swallowed a mouthful. "What's going on?"

"Herc," Hermes said dully, toying with the flaky fish on his plate. "Tell him what's been going on with Mercury."

So Hercules explained everything that had gone on, including his own thoughts on his mother and father. When he was done, Triton had cleaned his plate and was staring at Hercules. He turned to look at Hermes, uneasy.

"Why does this Mercury guy bother you so much?"

"Because _I'm_ Mercury," Hermes replied, setting aside his full plate. "It's my Roman name. And I still don't know how you figured it out, Herc. Nobody around here uses my Roman name."

"It was on my test," Hercules said, pulling out the scroll and holding it out. "I got it wrong, and the teacher corrected me."

Hermes grunted, glaring at the fire. "Of course."

"Hey, I'm not mad at you, Hermes," Hercules said. "I get why you didn't tell me."

"Do you now?"

"You didn't want me to tell my dad. Because you wiped their memories. Same with Triton. You didn't want him to spill the beans either."

Hermes clenched his jaw and removed his glasses. Silver eyes flashed in the light, brighter than the grey that he wore in his other form, yet they were the same eyes. And they were swimming in tears.

"Don't tell. Please," he begged, his voice broken. "It was terrible. You have no idea. I can't go back to the way it was. Hera _hated_ me. She made me do the worst things for her to punish me for existing. I didn't choose to be born."

"Why would my mom hate you, Hermes?" Hercules asked.

Hermes took a deep breath and let it out. "Herc, Zeus is my father." He paused. "We're half-brothers. And your mother hated that Zeus would sleep with anybody else. So she tried to punish my mother. My mother never asked to be raped by Zeus. She didn't ask to conceive and give birth to me. She never asked to be hated by Hera. But all three things happened, and we can't change that."

One word rang in Hercules's head, and all four of the teens stared at the god with open mouths.

"R-rape?" the demigod asked faintly. "Dad… r-raped your mother?"

Hermes nodded soberly, and the tears spilled down his cheeks. "Yes. I must admit, he's calmed down since the earlier days of humanity. But he fathered many demigods and gods from others besides Hera. And she despised that. But she despises me and my mother most of all. Mother is beautiful, just as beautiful as Hera. They didn't get along before the rape, but afterward, Hera tried to kill my mother. If the nymphs weren't so gracious, Maia would be dead. And it wasn't even her fault. She said no. She fought and struggled, but Zeus…"

And Hermes covered his eyes and began to sob. Hercules sat there, numb and horrified. He looked at Triton, who stared back with large, frightened eyes. Icarus had nothing funny to say, sitting rigidly and staring at the fire. Cassandra looked at Hercules then gestured to Hermes with her eyes. Hercules shook his head, and she leaned over and whispered.

"He's your _brother_ , Herc."

So Hercules awkwardly stood up and crossed over to sit beside Hermes. The shaking form looked so fragile, so unlike any other god he knew. He wrapped an arm around the thin shoulders, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when Hermes pressed his face into the demigod's chest, sobbing into it. He shivered and shook with pain too deep for words, and Hercules held him, bewildered and lost.

When Hermes finally got ahold of himself, he pulled back and turned his face away from everybody, clearly embarrassed. He fiercely wiped at his cheeks, biting his bottom lip.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"It's a lot," Hercules said. "At least, for me. I can't imagine what it's like for you."

Hermes sniffled, but he smiled and faced him again. "You're a good boy, Herc."

Hercules grinned. "You, too, Merc."

The god threw his head back and laughed so merrily that the spell of sadness and tension was broken. Hermes laughed like a child, so full of glee and mirth that it spread to the others. Even Cassandra smiled. When the laughter died away, Hermes picked up his plate and took a big bite. He seemed much more relaxed.

"I need to know that you won't tell any of the other gods," he said between mouthfuls of fish.

"I don't speak to the gods," Cassandra said, brushing her hair back.

Icarus stood up and pressed his hand to his heart. "I swear by the temple of Zeus that I won't say a word!" he announced proudly.

"Try Hermes's temple," Cassandra replied.

Hermes smiled at the two mortals then turned to appraise Triton and Hercules. "And you two?"

"Will you tell dad about the mermaid if I tell?" Triton asked cautiously.

"No. I've already covered you on that, my dear cousin," Hermes said. "I'm not going to coerce you by threatening you. The other gods would do that, but that's not my thing. I'm just asking, as a cousin, as a friend, that you keep my secret."

Triton sat there, worrying his bottom lip. He stared at Hermes with his big blue eyes as the crackling of the fire filled the silence around them. Hermes continued to watch Triton as he polished off his fish. When Hermes set his plate aside, Triton nodded slowly.

"I won't tell my dad and mom. I owe you so much. Besides…" Triton hesitated. "I don't want you to be hurt again. It's obviously torn you up."

Hercules clapped a hand on his cousin's shoulder then turned to his brother. "I won't tell anybody, Hermes. Thank you."

Hermes toyed with his glasses, tilting his head. _"You're_ thanking _me?"_

"For trusting us. You could've just done the forgetfulness thing on us."

The god smiled, placing the red spectacles on his nose again. "None of you deserve that. It would have been a last resort."

There was a noise, and they turned to see a shadow dodge behind a tree. Hercules stood up, narrowing his eyes. Hermes grabbed his wrist and yanked him down. Hercules looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"It's not a monster," Hermes said. He raised his voice. "It's okay Daphne. You can come out, dear."

The shadow peeked around the tree. "Are you sure, little god?"

"I've told them about what I did, who I am. They're safe, I promise. Come over and meet my little brother and my cousin. And their friends."

A beautiful woman stepped into the firelight. She was tall and fair, her skin green as the leaves of a tree, her hair dark as seaweed, and her eyes as pink as flowers. Her perfect complexion was ruined by a terrible, dark scar that tore across the left side of her face. She walked with lithe grace, giving them all a wide berth as she made her way to Hermes. Hermes patted a spot on the other side of him, and she settled down, leaning away from Icarus, her eyes wary. Hermes wrapped his arm around her, tugging her close.

"Herc, Triton, this is Daphne. She's a wood nymph and a very dear friend of mine."

Hercules smiled, holding out his hand. She stared at him strangely then took it for a brief instant. Her tree magic sent tingles down his arm, but before he registered it, she had pulled away. Triton waved at her, smiling. Daphne shot a nervous smile at him then turned her eyes to Icarus and Cassandra. She was interested to see that Icarus looked _un_ interested in her. His gaze had already turned back to Cassandra, who looked bored.

Hermes kissed her cheek. "Daph, this is my little brother, Hercules." He gestured at the demigod. "Triton, son of Poseidon and Amphitrite, and my little cousin." He nodded toward the sea god, who beamed at her. "This lovely young lady is Cassandra." Cassandra jolted and her cheeks warmed as she gave a dismissive little wave. "And this young man is Icarus. He flew too close to the sun."

"Hello," Daphne said, her eyes on Icarus. "Is that why there's something wrong with him?"

Icarus barely glanced at her, and Hermes smiled. "What can I say, my flower? He's in love with Cassandra. No need for you."

Instead of looking offended, the nymph relaxed. She smiled warmly. "It is nice to meet all of you. Especially you, Hercules. Hermes is very fond of you."

"He is?" Hercules asked, looking at Hermes, whose cheeks warmed.

"Of course I am, little brother," Hermes said, wrapping his other arm around Hercules's shoulders. "I've got a vested interest in you. Not just because of Zeus, either."

Hercules smiled then glanced up at the sky. "I think we should get home."

"I don't want to fly again," Triton said, looking ill.

"I'll take you home, Triton," Hermes said. "Daph, you'll take care of the fire?"

"Of course, Hermes," she replied. "You get him back." She stood gracefully, and Hermes popped to his feet, his shoes lifting him into the air. He pecked her cheek again then stretched.

"Alright, cats and kooks," he said, dropping back into his usual lingo. "Herc, you go on home. I'll get the other three back. It'll take five minutes. Triton, you first."

Hercules waved and headed back to Pegasus. He took off toward Phil's island. Cassandra and Icarus remained by the fire as Hermes took Triton by the arm.

"Hang on, cuz," he said then took off.

Icarus smiled at Cassandra and slipped closer. "Romantic firelight is perfect for this date, my darling Cassie."

Cassandra rolled her eyes, and Daphne watched her curiously. Before she could say anything, Hermes was back, dripping with water.

"Icarus, buddy, your turn," he said, holding out his hand.

"Until tomorrow, my sweet," he said, blowing the seer a kiss.

Then he was gone. Daphne sat beside Cassandra. "He loves you very much."

"He's just a friend," Cassandra spat.

"Like my Hermes," Daphne replied. "I love him very much. I watched him grow up. He has had many lovers, but I do not see him like that."

Cassandra relaxed. "Nice to see that you don't think he's my boyfriend."

"I see potential," Daphne said solemnly. "He truly loves you, that much is clear. But you have not really made up your mind."

The seer turned red. "What do you mean? He's just a _friend."_

"You roll your eyes, but you like the attention. Perhaps you are not ready for a relationship. That is true of many of my sister nymphs, and they are hundreds of years old."

Cassandra stared at the nymph. "He's just a friend."

"I have seen friendship morph before, Cassandra. But I respect that you consider him a friend. Cherish your friends. But do not abuse his care for you. If you do, you might destroy him."

Cassandra considered this then nodded. "I don't want to do anything to hurt him. Or Hercules."

Daphne nodded then looked across the fire. Cassandra followed her gaze. Hermes stood there, watching over his glasses.

"I can take you home now or later, Cassandra. If you want to keep talking with Daph, you can."

"I think we're done," Cassandra said. "For today at least."

Hermes nodded and held out his hand. Cassandra took it, and her stomach dropped into her toes as she was pulled high into the air. She expected to go quickly, like he'd done with Triton and Icarus, but the god didn't seem to be in any hurry. The girl felt weightless as they soared over the countryside. She could see sparse houses lit with firelight. It was quite beautiful.

"Daphne likes you," Hermes said casually.

Cassandra shrugged. "She seems nice. How old is she?"

"Four hundred and seventy-three," Hermes replied. "She's been around the block a time or two."

"She seems like she knows a lot."

Hermes glanced over. "Yeah?" Cassandra said nothing in response, so he continued. "She's very wise with relationships."

"How'd she get that scar?"

The god knew the girl was changing the subject, but he rolled with it. "She refused to tell Hera where my mother and I were hiding. The goddess struck her with a cursed wound. We cannot heal it. But I find her more beautiful because of it. She's the one who taught me about loyalty."

Cassandra nodded. "She is beautiful."

Hermes stopped moving forward, and the two of them hovered there. "So are you."

The girl froze, her eyes wide. "What?"

"I saw you flinch when I said you were lovely. You are lovely, Cassandra."

"Are you hitting on me?" she sputtered.

"No," Hermes said sensibly. "I have two lovely daughters, Cassandra, and I know how every girl needs to be told she is beautiful. I am stating a fact that you don't see through your teenage insecurities. You are very beautiful." He paused, adjusting his glasses. "I know you don't believe me. I see it in your face. I just want you to consider that Icarus has seen how beautiful you are for a very long time. He likes what he sees."

"He's just a friend," Cassandra said.

"I know," Hermes said. He tipped her chin up. "But perhaps if you saw yourself the way he does, you'd realize a few things."

To her surprise, Hermes leaned down and kissed her forehead in a fatherly gesture of affection. Then he tugged her forward again, much faster this time, and within half a minute, they were settling down in front of her doorstep. Hermes smiled warmly.

"Goodnight, Cassandra. Have pleasant dreams."

"Thanks, Hermes," she said slowly. "You and Daphne have given me some stuff to think about."

Hermes winked, then he was gone, leaving Cassandra bewildered. No man had ever called her beautiful. Even her father had never called her beautiful. It wasn't something that had ever come up before. In fact, she had never considered that she needed to hear it. But Hermes's words made her feel warm, and as she opened the door to her house, she was smiling a little.


End file.
